Horse-Shoe Robinson: A Tale of the Tory Ascendency

by John Pendleton Kennedy

  CHAPTER XIII.

  A WOODMAN'S FAMILY.

  The apartment into which the travellers were introduced was one of largedimensions, conspicuous for its huge kitchen-like fire-place and amplechimney. The floor, consisting of broad planks, was so much warped as,in several places, to show the ground through the chinks. The furniturewas of the rudest form and most homely materials. Three or four rifleswere suspended against the walls, together with some trapping implementsand various skins of such wild animals of prey and game as abounded inthe woods of this region: these were associated with the antlers of thebuck, powder-horns, hunting pouches, and a few articles ofclothing,--the whole array giving to the room that air of woodland lifewhich denotes the habitation of a hunter, and which so distinctlycharacterizes the dwellings of our frontier population.

  Amongst other articles of household use was a large spinning-wheel thatwas placed near the door, and beside it stood the dame who had firstchallenged the visitors. She was a woman who could scarcely be said tohave reached the middle period of life, although her wan and somewhathaggard features, and a surly, discontented expression of face, mightwell induce an observer to attribute more years to her worldly accountthan she had actually seen. The presence of a rough and untidy cradleand some five or six children, the majority of whom might be below threefeet in stature, served in some degree to explain the care-worn andjoyless countenance of the hostess. When Butler and his companion wereushered by Lynch into her presence, she gave them no other welcome thana slight nod of the head, and continued to ply her task at the wheelwith unremitted assiduity.

  In another corner of the room sat a smart-looking young girl who, atthis moment, was employed in carding wool. She was sylvan Hebe, justverging upon womanhood, with a round, active, and graceful figure, whichwas adorned with that zealous attention to neatness and becomingornament which, in every station of life, to a certain extent,distinguishes those of the sex who are gifted with beauty. Her cheek hadthe rich bloom of high health; a full round blue eye seemed habituallyto laugh with pleasure; and the same trick of a happy temperament hadstamped its mark upon the lines of her mouth. Her accost was altogetherdifferent from that of the mistress of the house. She arose from herwork immediately upon the entrance of the strangers, courtesied with amodest and silent reserve, and then proceeded to gather up the rolls ofcarded wool at her feet and to dispose of them in a chest near at hand.Having done this, she left the apartment, not without casting sundryprying glances towards the guests.

  Another member of the family was an aged female: she had perhaps seenher eightieth winter. Her attenuated frame seemed to be hovering on theverge of dissolution: a hollow cheek, a sunken, moist eye, and atremulous palsied motion of the head denoted the melancholy period ofdotage; and it was apparent at a glance that this unfortunate being hadfar outlived both her capacity for enjoyment and the sympathy of herkindred. She now sat in a low elbow-chair, with her head almost incontact with her knees, upon the stone hearth, bending over a small fireof brushwood which had been kindled as well for the purpose of preparingthe evening meal as for the comfort of the ancient dame herself--thechilliness of night-fall rendering this additional warmth by no meansunpleasant. The beldam silently smoked a short pipe, unmoved by anythingthat occurred in the apartment, and apparently engrossed with thetrivial care of directing the smoke, as she puffed it from her lips,into a current that should take it up the chimney.

  Michael Lynch, who acted as landlord in the casual absence of Wat Adair,had no other connexion with the family than that of being joint owner,with the lord of this wild domain, of a small saw-mill in the vicinity,the particular superintendence of which was his especial province. Hewas, therefore, at particular seasons of the year, an in-dweller at thehomestead, and sufficiently in authority to assume a partial directionin the affairs of the house. This man now replaced his rifle upon thepegs appropriated to receive it, and then offered Butler and Robinsonchairs, as he said to the mistress of the family:--

  "Here's Horse Shoe Robinson, Mrs. Adair; and this other man I think theycall Mr. Butler. They've come for a night's lodging. I believe Wat willbe right glad to see them."

  "You are not often visited with travellers in this part of the country,"said Butler, addressing the matron as he drew his chair near to the fireto dry his clothes.

  "We have enough of them, such as they are," replied the woman; "and it'sa dangerous thing, when there's so many helpless women at home, to beopening the door to all sorts of persons."

  "You, at least, run no risk in offering shelter to us this evening,"returned Butler; "we are strangers to the quarrel that prevails in yourdistrict."

  "People puts on so many pretences," said the woman, "that there's noknowing them."

  "You have a fine troop of boys and girls," continued Butler, patting thehead of one of the boys who had summoned courage to approach him, aftervarious shy reconnoitrings of his person. "Your settlement will requireenlargement before long."

  "There is more children than is needful," replied the hostess; "they aretroublesome brats; but poor people generally have the luck that way."

  "Does your husband ever serve with the army, madam?" asked Butler.

  The woman stopped spinning for a moment, and turning her face towardsButler with a scowl, muttered,

  "How does that matter concern you?"

  "Pardon me," replied Butler; "I was recommended to Mr. Adair as afriend, and supposed I might approach his house without suspicion."

  "Wat Adair is a fool," said the wife; "who is never content but when hehas other people thrusting their spoons into his mess."

  "Wat's a wiser man than his wife," interrupted Robinson bluntly, "andtakes good care that no man thrusts his spoon into his mess withoutpaying for it. You know Wat and me knows each other of old, Mrs. Adair;and devil a ha'penny did Wat ever lose by good manners yet."

  "And who are you to talk, forsooth, Horse Shoe Robinson!" exclaimed theill-favored dame, tartly. "Who are you to talk of Wat Adair? If he knowsyou he knows no good of you, I'm sure? I warrant you have come here onhonest business now--you and your tramping friend. What do you do uphere in the woods, when there is work enough for hearty men below? Nogood, I will undertake. It is such as you, Horse Shoe Robinson, and yourdrinking, rioting, broadsword cronies that has given as all our troubleshere. You know Wat Adair!"

  "A little consideration, good woman! Not so fast; you run yourself outof breath," said Robinson mildly, interrupting this flood ofobjurgation. "Why, you are as spiteful as a hen with a fresh brood!Remember, Wat and me are old friends. Wat has been at my house bothbefore the war and since, and I have been here--all in friendship youknow. And many's the buck I have helped Wat to fetch down. What's theuse of tantrums? If we had been thieves, Mrs. Adair, you couldn't havesarved us worse. Why, it's unreasonable in you to fly in a man's faceso."

  "I'll vouch for Horse Shoe Robinson, Mrs. Peggy Adair," said Lynch. "Yououghtn't to think harm of him; and you know it isn't long since we heardWat talk of him, and say he would like to see him once more!"

  "Well, it's my way," replied the hostess, soothed down into a placidmood by this joint expostulation. "We have had cause to be suspicious,and I own I am suspicious. But, Horse Shoe Robinson, I can't say I haveanything against you; you and your friend may be welcome for me."

  "Heyday!" exclaimed the old crone from the chimney corner "Who istalking about Horse Shoe Robinson? Is this Horse Shoe? Come here, goodman," she said, beckoning with her finger to the sergeant. "Come closeand let me look at you. Galbraith Robinson, as I am a sinner! All theway from the Waxhaws. Who'd 'a thought to find you here amongst theTories? Such a racketing whig as you. Heyday!"

  "Whisht, granny!" said Robinson almost in a whisper. "Don't call names."

  "We are all Tories here," said the old woman, heedless of the sergeant'scaution, "ever since last Thursday, when the handsome English officerwas here to see Watty, and to count out his gold like pebble-stones."

  "Grandmother, you talk nonsense," said the w
ife.

  "Old Mistress Crosby," interposed Robinson, "is as knowing as she everwas. It's a mark of sense to be able to tell the day of the week when aman changes his coat. But, granny, you oughtn't to talk of Wat's seeingan English officer in his house."

  "Golden guineas, honey!" continued the drivelling old woman. "All goodgold! And a proud clinking they make in Watty's homespun pocket. Acountryman's old leather bag, Galbraith Robinson, doesn't often scrapeacquaintance with the image of the king's head--ha, ha, ha! It makes melaugh to think of it! Ha, ha, ha! Watty's nose cocked up so high too!Who but he, the proud gander! Strutting like quality. Well, well, pridewill have a fall, some day, that's the Lord's truth. Both pockets full!"she continued, muttering broken sentences and laughing so violently thatthe tears ran down her cheeks.

  "If you call Wat Adair your friend," interrupted the wife sullenly, andaddressing Robinson, "you will show your sense by keeping away from thisfoolish old woman. She is continually raving with some nonsense that shedreams of nights. You ought to see that she is only half witted. It'ssinful to encourage her talking. Grandmother, you had better go to yourbed."

  "Come this way, deary," said the beldam, addressing an infant thattoddled across the floor near to her seat, at the same time extendingher shrivelled arm to receive it. "Come to the old body, prettydarling!"

  "No," lisped the child with an angry scream, and instantly made its waytowards the door.

  "Then do you come to me, Peggy," she said, looking up at hergranddaughter, the mistress of the family, who was still busy with herwheel. "Wipe my old eye with your handkerchief. Don't you see I havelaughed my eyes dim at Watty and his gold? And fill my pipe again,Peggy."

  Instead of obeying this command, the mother left her spinning, and ranwith some precipitation towards the door to catch up the child, who hadstaggered to the very verge of the sill, where it paused in imminentperil of falling headlong down the step; and having rescued it from itsdanger, she returned with the infant in her arms to a chair, where,without scruple at the presence of her visitors, she uncovered her bosomand administered to her off-spring that rich and simple bounty whichnature has so lavishly provided for the sustenance of our first andtenderest days of helplessness.

  "Well-a-day, I see how it is!" muttered the grandmother in an accent ofreproof, "that's the way of the world. Love is like a running river, itgoes downwards, but doesn't come back to the spring. The poor old grannyin the chimney corner is a withered tree up the stream, and the youngestborn is a pretty flower on the bank below. Love leaves the old tree andgoes to the flower. It went from me to Peggy's mother, and so downwardsand downwards, but it never will come back again. The old granny's roomis more wanted than her company; she ought to be nailed up in her coffinand put to sleep down, down in the cold ground. Well, well! But Watty'sa proud wretch, that's for certain!"

  In this strain the aged dame continued to pour forth a stream ofgarrulity exhibiting a mixture of the silly dreamings of dotage, with acurious remainder of the scraps and saws of former experience--a strangecompound of futile drivelling and shrewd and quick sagacity.

  During the period of the foregoing dialogue, preparations were makingfor supper. These were conducted principally under the superintendenceof our Hebe, who, my reader will recollect, some time since escaped fromthe room, and who, as Butler learned, in the course of the evening, wasa niece of Adair's wife and bore the kindly name of Mary Musgrove. Thepart which she took in the concerns of the family was in accordance withthe simple manners of the time, and such as might be expected from herrelationship. She was now seen arranging a broad table, and directingthe domestics in the disposition of sundry dishes of venison, bacon, andcorn bread, with such other items of fare as belonged to the sequesteredand forest-bound region in which Adair resided.

  Mary was frequently caught directing her regards towards Butler, whoseface was handsome enough to have rendered such a thing quite naturalfrom a young girl: but she seemed to be moved by more than ordinaryinterest, as the closeness of her scrutiny almost implied a suspicion inher mind of his disguise. In truth there was some incongruity betweenhis manners and the peasant dress he wore, which an eye like Mary'smight have detected, notwithstanding the plainness of demeanor whichButler studied to assume.

  "We have nothing but corn bread in the house," said Mary in a low toneto her kinswoman, "perhaps the gentlemen (here she directed her eye, forthe fiftieth time, to Butler) expected to get wheat. Had I not betterpull some roasting-ears from the garden and prepare them? they will notbe amiss with our milk and butter."

  "Bless you, my dear," said Butler, thrown completely off his guard, andshowing more gallantry than belonged to the station he affected. "Giveyourself no trouble on my account; we can eat anything. I delight incorn cakes, and will do ample justice to this savory venison. Pray donot concern yourself for us."

  "It is easy as running to the garden," said Mary in a sweet and almostlaughing tone.

  "That's further, my dear," replied Butler, "than I choose you should runat this time of night. It is dark, my pretty girl."

  "Gracious!" returned Mary with natural emotion, "do you think I amafraid to go as far as the garden in the dark? We have no witches orfairies in our hills to hurt us: and if we had, I know how to keep themaway."

  "And how might that be?"

  "By saying my prayers, sir. My father taught me, before my head was ashigh as the back of this chair, a good many prayers: and he told me theywould protect me from all sorts of harm, if I only said them in rightearnest. And I hear many old people, who ought to know, say the samething."

  "Your father taught you well and wisely," replied Butler; "prayer willguard us against many ills, and chiefly against ourselves. But againstthe harm that others may do us, we should not forget that prudence isalso a good safeguard. It is always well to avoid a dangerous path."

  "But, for all that," said the maiden smiling, "I am not afraid to go asfar as the garden."

  "If you mean to get the corn," interrupted Mistress Adair, in no verykindly tone, "you had as well go without all this talk. I warrant if youlisten to every man who thinks it worth while to jabber in your ear, youwill find harm enough, without going far to seek it."

  "I thought it was only civil to speak when I was spoken to," repliedMary, with an air of mortification. "But I will be gone this moment:"and with these words the girl went forth upon her errand.

  A moment only elapsed when the door was abruptly thrown open, and thetall and swarthy figure of Wat Adair strode into the room. The glare ofthe blazing faggots of pine which had been thrown on the fire to lightup the apartment, fell broadly over his person, and flung a black anduncouth shadow across the floor and upon the opposite wall; thusmagnifying his proportions and imparting a picturesque character to hisoutward man. A thin, dark, weather-beaten countenance, animated by abright and restless eye, expressed cunning rather than hardihood, andseemed habitually to alternate between the manifestations of waggishvivacity and distrust. The person of this individual might be said, fromits want of symmetry and from a certain slovenly and ungraceful stoop inthe head and shoulders, to have been protracted, rather than tall. Itbetter deserved the description of sinewy than muscular, andcommunicated the idea of toughness in a greater degree than strength.His arms and legs were long; and the habit of keeping the knee bent ashe walked, suggested a remote resemblance in his gait to that of apanther and other animals of the same species; it seemed to be adaptedto a sudden leap or spring.

  His dress was a coarse and short hunting-shirt of dingy green, trimmedwith a profusion of fringe, and sufficiently open at the collar todisclose his long and gaunt neck; a black leather belt supported ahunting knife and wallet; whilst a pair of rude deer-skin moccasins anda cap manufactured from the skin of some wild animal, and now deprivedof its hair by long use, supplied the indispensable gear to eitherextremity of his person.

  Adair's first care was to bestow in their proper places his rifle andpowder-horn; then to disburden himself of a number of squirrels which
were strung carelessly over his person, and, finally, to throw himselfinto a chair that occupied one side of the fire-place. The light for amoment blinded him, and it was not until he shaded his brow with hishand and looked across the hearth, that he became aware of the presenceof the strangers. His first gaze was directed to Butler, to whom headdressed the common interrogatory, "Travelling in these parts, sir?"and, before time was afforded for a reply to this accost, his eyerecognised the sergeant, upon which, starting from his seat, he made upto our sturdy friend, and slapping him familiarly on the back, uttered achuckling laugh, as he exclaimed:

  "Why, Galbraith, is it you, man? To be sure it is! What wind has blownyou up here? Have you been running from red coats, or are you hunting ofTories, or are you looking for beeves? Who have you got with you here?"

  "Wat, it don't consarn you to know what brought us here--it is only yourbusiness to do the best you can for us whilst we are here," replied thesergeant. "This here gentleman is Mr. Butler, a friend of mine thatwants to get across into Georgia; and trouble enough we've had to findour way this far, Wat Adair. You've got such an uproarious country, andsuch a cursed set of quarrelsome devils in it, that a peaceable man isclean out of fashion amongst you. We are as wet as muskrats in swimmingthe river, and as hungry as wolves in winter."

  "And happy," said Butler, "to be at last under the roof of a friend."

  "Well, I am glad to see you both," replied Wat. "What put it in my head,Galbraith, I am sure I can't tell, but I was thinking about you thisvery day; said I to myself, I should just like to see Horse ShoeRobinson, the onconceivable, superfluous, roaring devil! Haw, haw, haw!"

  "You were ashamed of your own company, Wat, and wanted to see a decentman once more," replied Horse Shoe, echoing the laugh.

  "Mary Musgrove, bustle, girl," said the woodman, as the maiden enteredthe room with her arms loaded with ears of Indian corn, "bustle, mink!here are two runaways with stomachs like mill stones to grind your corn.Horse Shoe, get up from that chist, man; I can give you a little drop ofliquor, if you will let me rummage there for it. Marcus, boy, go bringus in a jug of cool water. Wife, I'm 'stonished you didn't think ofgiving our friends something to drink afore."

  "I am sure I don't pretend to know friend from foe," returned the dame;"and it is a bad way to find that out by giving them liquor."

  When the boy returned with the water, and the host had helped his gueststo a part of the contents of a flask which had been extracted from thechest, Butler took occasion to commend the alacrity of the youngservitor.

  "This is one of your children, I suppose?"

  "A sort of a pet cub," replied the woodman; "just a small specimen of myfetching up: trees squirrels like a dog--got the nose of a hound--cantrack a raccoon in the dark--and the most meddlesome imp about fire-armsyou ever see. Here t' other day got my rifle and shot away half the hairfrom his sister's head; but I reckon I skinned him for it! You cananswer for that, Marcus, you shaver, eh?"

  "I expect you did," answered the boy pertly, "but I don't mind awhipping when I've got room to dodge."

  "Do you know, Mr. Butler, how I come to call that boy Marcus?" saidAdair.

  "It is one of your family names, perhaps."

  "Not a bit. There's nare another boy nor man in this whole country roundhas such a name--nor woman, neither. It's a totally oncommon name. Icalled him after that there Frenchman that's come out here to helpGeneral Washington--Marcus Lafayette; and I think it sounds mightywell."

  Butler laughed, as he replied, "That was a soldierly thought of yours. Ithink you must call your next Baron, after our old Prussian friend DeKalb."

  "Do you hear that, wife?" exclaimed Wat. "Keep that in your head, if itwill hold there a twelvemonth. No occasion to wait longer, haw! haw!haw!"

  "Wat talks like a natural born fool," retorted the wife. "We have nofriends nor enemies on any side. The boy was called Marcus because Wattywas headstrong, and not because we cared any more for one general noranother. I dare say there is faults enough on both sides, if the truthwas told; and I can't see what people in the woods have to do with allthis jarring about liberty and such nonsense."

  "Hold your tongue!" said Wat. "Boil your kettle, and give us none ofyour tinkling brass, as the Bible calls it. You see, Horse Shoe, there'ssuch ridings and burnings, and shooting and murder about here, thatthese women are scared out of the little wits God has given them; andupon that account we are obliged sometimes to play a little double, justto keep out of harm's way. But I am sure I wish no ill to theContinental army."

  "If we thought you did, Wat," replied Robinson, "we would have slept onthe hill to-night, rather than set foot across the sill of your door.Howsever, let's say nothing about that; I told Mr. Butler that you wouldgive us the best you had, and so you will. I have known Wat Adair, Mr.Butler, a good many years. We used to call him Wat with the double hand.Show us your fist here, Wat. Look at that, sir! it's as broad as ashovel!"

  "Cutting of trees," said the woodman, as he spread his largehorny-knuckled hand upon the supper table, "and handling of logs, willmake any man's paw broad, and mine wa'n't small at first."

  "Ha! ha! ha!" ejaculated the sergeant, "you ha'n't forgot Dick Rowleyover here on Congaree, Wat,--Walloping Dick, as they nicknamed him--andthe scrimmage you had with him when he sot to laughing at you becausethey accused you for being light-fingered, and your letting him see thatyou had a heavy hand, by giving him the full weight of it upon his earthat almost drove him through the window of the bar-room at the CrossRoads? You ha'n't forgot that--and his drawing his knife on you?"

  "To be sure I ha'n't. That fellow was about as superfluous a piece ofwicked flesh as I say--as a man would meet on a summer's day journey.But for all that, Horse Shoe, he wa'n't going to supererogate me,without getting as good as he sent. When I come across one of your merryfellows that's for playing cantraps on a man, it's my rule to make thempay the piper; and that's a pretty good rule, Horse Shoe, all the worldthrough. But come, here is supper; draw up, Mr. Butler."

  Mary Musgrove having completed the arrangement of the board whilst thisconversation was in progress, the family now sat down to their repast.It was observable, during the meal, that Mary was very attentive in thedischarge of the offices of the table, and especially when they wererequired by Butler. There was a modest and natural courtesy in herdemeanor that attracted the notice of our soldier, and enhanced thekindly impression which the artless girl had made upon him; and it was,accordingly, with a feeling composed, in one degree, of curiosity tolearn more of her character, and, in another, of that sort of tendernesswhich an open-hearted man is apt to entertain towards an ingenuous andpretty female, that he took occasion after supper, when Mary had seatedherself on the threshold of the porch, to fall into conversation withher.

  "You do not live here, I think I have gathered, but are only on avisit?" was the remark addressed to the maiden.

  "No, sir; it is thirty good long miles by the shortest road, from thisto my father's house. Mistress Adair is my mother's sister, and thatmakes her my aunt, you know, sir."

  "And your father's name?"

  "Allen Musgrove. He has a mill, sir, on the Ennoree."

  "You are the miller's daughter, then. Well, that's a pretty title. Isuppose they call you so?"

  "The men sometimes call me," replied Mary, rising to her feet, andleaning carelessly against one of the upright timbers that supported theporch, "the miller's pretty daughter, but the women call me plain MaryMusgrove."

  "Faith, my dear, the men come nearer to the truth than the women."

  "They say not," replied the maiden, "I have heard, and sometimes I haveread in good books--at least, they called them good books--that youmustn't believe the men."

  "And why should you not?"

  "I don't well know why not," returned the girl doubtingly, "but I amyoung, and maybe I shall find it out by and by."

  "God forbid," said Butler, "that you should ever gain that experience!But there are many toils spread for the feet of innocence in th
is world,and it is well to have a discreet eye and good friends."

  "I am seventeen, sir," replied Mary, "come next month; and though I havetravelled backwards and forwards from here to Ennoree, and once toCamden, which, you know, sir, is a good deal of this world to see, Inever knew anybody that thought harm of me. But I don't dispute thereare men to be afraid of, and some that nobody could like. And yet Ithink a good man can be told by his face."

  "Are you sure of that?"

  "Yes. My father is a good man, and every one says you may see it in hislooks."

  "I should like to know your father," said Butler.

  "I am sure he would be glad to know you, sir."

  "Now, my pretty miller's daughter, why do you think so?"

  "Because you are a gentleman," replied the girl, courtesying, "for allyour homespun clothes."

  "Ha! pray how have you found that out?"

  "You talk differently from our people, sir. Your words or your voice, Ican't rightly tell which, are softer than I have been used to hear. Andyou don't look, and walk, and behave as if homespun had been all youever wore."

  "And is that all?"

  "You stop to consider, as if you were studying what would please otherpeople; and you do not step so heavy, sir; and you do not swear; and youdo not seem to like to give trouble. I can't think, sir, that you havebeen always used to such as are hereabouts. And then there's anotherreason, sir," added the maiden, almost in a whisper.

  "What is that?" asked Butler, smiling.

  "Why, sir, when you stooped down to pick up your fork, that fell fromthe table, I saw a blue ribbon round your neck, and a beautiful goldpicture hanging to it. None but gentlemen of quality carry such thingsabout them: and as there is so much contriving and bloody doings goingon about here, I was sure you wasn't what you seemed."

  "For heaven's sake, my dear," exclaimed Butler, startled by thedisclosure of the maiden's suspicion, which was so naturally accountedfor, "keep this to yourself, and the time may come when I shall be ableto reward your fidelity. If you have any good will towards me, as I hopeyou have, tell nobody what you have seen."

  "Never fear me, sir," returned the maid. "I wouldn't let on to any onein the house for the world. I am for General Washington and theCongress, which is more than I think the people here are."

  "Indeed!" muttered Butler, thoughtfully, and scarce above his breath."What side does your father take, Mary?"

  "My father is an old man, sir. And he reads his Bible, and every night,before we go to bed, he prays aloud before us all, I mean all thatbelong to his house, for quiet once more and peace. His petition is thatthere may be an end of strife, and that the sword and spear may beturned into the pruning-hook and ploughshare--you know the words, sir,perhaps, for they are in the good book, and so he doesn't take any side.But then, the English officers are not far off, and they take his houseand use it as they please, so that he has no mind of his own. And almostall the people round us are Tories, and we are afraid of our lives if wedo not say whatever they say."

  "Alas! that's the misfortune of many more than your father's household.But how comes it that you are a friend of General Washington?"

  "Oh, sir, I think he is our friend; and then he is a good man. And Ihave a better reason still to be on his side," added the maidentremulously, with her head averted.

  "What reason, my good girl?"

  "John Ramsay, sir."

  "Indeed! a very cogent reason, I doubt not, my pretty maid of the mill.And how does this reason operate?"

  "We have a liking, sir," she replied bashfully, but with innocentfrankness; "he is for Washington, and we are to be married when the waris over."

  "Truly, that is a most excellent reason! Who is John Ramsay?"

  "He is a trooper, sir, and out with General Sumpter. We don't see himoften now, for he is afraid to come home, excepting when the Tories areaway."

  "These Tories are very troublesome, Mary," said Butler, laughing; "theyannoy us all, on our side of the question. But love John Ramsay, mydear, and don't be ashamed of it, for I'll warrant he is a brave fellow,and deserves a pretty girl with a true heart, for his love to hiscountry."

  "That he does!" replied Mary, "for his greatest fault is that heventures too much. If you should see him, sir, I would like you just todrop him a hint that he ought to take more care of himself. He wouldmind it from you, but he puts me off with a laugh when I tell him so."

  "If I have the schooling of him, he shall be more cautious, for yoursake. But the current of true love never did run smooth, Mary; rememberthat."

  "I must go into the house, my aunt Peggy calls me," interrupted themaiden. "I will keep the secret, sir," she added, as she retired fromthe porch to the household service where her presence was demanded.

  "Simple, innocent, and confiding girl," ejaculated Butler, as he nowstrolled forth under the starlit canopy of night; "how are youcontrasted with the rough and savage natures around you! I wear but athin disguise, when this unpractised country girl is able so soon topenetrate it. And this miniature, too! Oh, Mildred! that the verytalisman I bear about me to guard me from evil, should betray me! Well,this discovery admonishes me that I should wear that image nearer to myheart. There," he continued, as he buttoned his waistcoat across hisbreast; "lie closer and more concealed. I doubt this double-facedwoodman, and almost believe in the seeming frivolous dotings of thecrone at his fire-side. Now, God defend us from treachery andambuscade!"

  Robinson, at this moment, being on his way to the stable, was met byButler, who half whispered, "Good sergeant, keep your eyes about you,and, mark me, do not omit to take our weapons to our chamber. I havereasons for this caution. I would not trust these people too far."

  "Wat dare not play us a trick, major," replied the sergeant. "He knowsI would shake the life out of his carcase if I saw him take one step ofa traitor. Besides, in this here war time, it's a part of my disciplineto be always ready for stolen marches. As you say, major, we will stackarms where we sleep. There is no trust in this dubious country thatisn't something the surer with powder and ball to back it."

  With this intimation the sergeant continued his walk, and Butler,retiring to the family group, seated himself near the fire.

  Wat Adair and his crony, Michael Lynch, had each lighted a pipe, andwere now in close conference under the cover of their own smoke, amidstthe combined din of romping children and of the noisy spinning-wheel ofthe wife, which gave life and occupation to the apartment.

  "How far do you expect to travel to-morrow?" asked the host, as Butlerdrew a chair near him.

  "That will depend very much," replied Butler, "upon the advice you maygive us."

  "You wish to get across here into Georgia?" continued Wat.

  "By the route least liable to molestation," added the major.

  "Let me see, Michael, Grindall's Ford is the best point to make: thenthere's Christie's, about three miles beyont."

  "Just so," replied Lynch; "that will make about twenty-seven and threeare thirty miles: an easy day's journey."

  "In that case," said Adair, "if you know the road--doesn't Horse Shoeknow it, sir?"

  "I rather think not," answered Butler.

  "Well, it's a little tangled, to be sure; but if you will wait in themorning until I look at my wolf trap, which is only a step off, I willgo with you part of the way, just to see you through one or two crosspaths: after that all is clear enough. You will have a long day beforeyou, and, with good horses, not much to do."

  "Are we likely to meet parties on the road?" asked Butler.

  "Oh, Lord, sir, no chance of it," replied the woodman; "everything isdrawing so to a head down below at Camden 'twixt Cornwallis and Gates,that we have hardly anything but old women left to keep the country freeof Indians."

  "And how have you escaped the levy?" inquired the major.

  "He, he, he!" chuckled our host; "there's a trick in that. They call mea man of doubtful principles, and neither side are willing to own me,"he added, with a tone that seemed to indicate
a sense of his owncleverness. "But, bless you, sir, if I chose to speak out, therewouldn't be much doubt in the case. Would there, Michael?"

  "Not if you was to be plain in declaring your sentiments," answeredLynch, sedately puffing out a huge cloud of smoke.

  "Betwixt you and me, sir," continued Wat, putting his hand up to hismouth, and winking an eye at Butler, "the thing's clear enough. Butthese are ticklish times, Mr. Butler, and the wise man keepeth his owncounsel, as the Scripture says. You understand me, I dare say."

  "Perhaps, I do," returned Butler. And here the conversation dropped, Watand his companion gravely pouring forth volumes of tobacco-fumes insilence, until the sergeant, having made his visit to the stable, nowre-entered the room.

  "Wat," said Robinson, "show us where we are to sleep. Mr. Butler, to mythinking, it's time to be turning in."

  Then throwing his rifle upon one arm, and Butler's holsters over theother, the sergeant waited in the middle of the floor until MaryMusgrove, at the order of Adair, took a candle in her hand, and beckonedour travellers to follow her out at the door. The maiden conducted hercharge along the porch to the opposite end of the cabin, where shepointed out their chamber. After bidding their pretty conductress "goodnight," our travellers prepared themselves for that repose which theirwearied frames did not long seek in vain.